


Bound to You

by tardistype221b (TardisType221b)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Duchess Cloverly - Bound to you video, Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, M/M, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisType221b/pseuds/tardistype221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes have been cursed to be alive forever. If they fall in love the curse will break, but if their love is not returned they will die. They both know that no one would ever fall in love with them so they rely on each other throughout the years to keep the other from falling in love so they won't be alone forever. Then Greg Lestrade appears in their lives and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based the video Bound to You by Duchess Cloverly  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-otO-Enb7M  
> You should watch it before reading

Bound To You  
Chapter One  
1993  
Sherlock was walking in the rain, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered. He was free, floating high above the clouds. A cab came whooshing by, splashing water all over him. He staggered back and stumbled into an alley. That's when he saw the body, or rather...bodies. They were lying on the ground, evidence slowly being washed away by the rain, but there was still enough left to deduce what had happened. The first victim, he thought, leaning over the girl's body, had been snatched off the street judging by the finger shaped bruising around her mouth. The others were most likely her friends, following to investigate and unfortunately, met the same fate, a knife slashing their throats. Then he took a closer look, 'Wrong!' It was the woman with the knife embedded in her throat, she pretended to be snatched off the street so her friends would come looking then grabbed them, a case of petty revenge. Then afterwards, she killed herself. It was very well planned, only the shape of the bruises that gave her away. Then Sherlock heard sirens. He saw the lights of the police cars and exited the alley,  
"In here officers." he said and they looked at him.  
"Who the bloody hell are you?" asked a Constable who's name tag read Donovan.  
"Sherlock Holmes, the victims, and the murderer I believe are in there." He said, gesturing to the alley. He turned to leave.  
"Just wait up one second." Sherlock turned back around.  
"I know my rights Detective Sergeant, I have done nothing wrong, and you have no right to detain me." Detective Sergeant Gregory Lestrade reached into Sherlock's coat and pulled out a bag of cocaine.  
"How about possession of illegal substances?"  
"Fine, arrest me." Sherlock said. "But I'm sure you'll want to know, the girl with the knife in her neck is the murderer, it was a murder-suicide." As Lestrade was handcuffing him, Donovan said,   
"What does he mean boss?"  
"Nothing, he's high, probably talking gibberish."  
"I am not talking gibberish, I know you've been married for five years, very happily in fact, but your wife is angry at your long work hours, you're trying for a promotion, which you will get soon, so keep it up. You took the tube to work because your wife needed the car and you have one child.....a girl....between 2-4 years of age --”   
"How on earth did you know that?" Lestrade cut in.  
"I didn't know, I saw, now if you're going to arrest me I would appreciate it if you did it as fast as possible." Lestrade sighed and put Sherlock into the cruiser.  
"I'm taking this one in, you guys alright to finish up here?" he asked.   
"Yeah, we're fine here." Donovan replied. Lestrade got into the cruiser and drove off.  
~*~  
A Few Hours Later  
"Sir, call for you." said Donovan, poking her head inside Lestrade's box of an office.  
"I'm busy." retorted Lestrade.  
"It's important." replied Donovan. "The higher ups..." She whispered. Lestrade sighed.  
"Fine, transfer it over." he replied.  
"Will do, sir." said Donovan and she left, soon after the phone rang. Lestrade picked it up on the second ring.  
"Lestrade."  
"Lestrade, it’s the Chief Inspector, listen, that kid you arrested earlier a....'Sherlock Holmes'? You need to release him immediately."  
"What? Why?"  
"Kid has some friends in some very high places..."  
"We can't just--"  
"We can, and we will. He will be released into the care of his brother, Mycroft Holmes."  
"But Chief Inspector, sir. What if he's the murderer...on this case I'm working on?"  
"What are you implying, Lestrade?"  
"At the crime scene, sir, he said some things that only the murderer would know..."  
"Are you absolutely certain?"  
"Well-"  
"Do you have any solid evidence?"  
"Well...no-"  
"Then don't talk to me about these 'hunches' of yours and release him!"  
"Yes sir, right away." The Chief Inspector ended the call and Lestrade placed the phone back in its cradle.  
"Donovan!" he shouted and Donovan poked her head into his office.  
"Yes sir?"  
"Ready the papers for Sherlock's release."  
"Yes sir." She scurried off and Lestrade headed down to the holding cells. He approached Sherlock's cell and saw Sherlock lying on the bench provided, legs bent and hands in a steepled position. He looked as if he was deep in thought. Donovan approached him with the necessary materials.  
"Papers, sir." He took the papers from her.  
"Thank you, you're free to go."  
"Thank you sir." Donovan left and Lestrade opened Sherlock's cell, stepping inside.  
"So...Sherlock Holmes, who are you really?"  
"No one you need to concern yourself with." replied Sherlock, not moving at all, his words the only acknowledgement of Lestrade entering the cell.  
"I think I do need to concern myself with you. You said some things at the scene that only the murderer could know, but yet the murderer couldn't have known all those things about me....so explain yourself?"  
"I don't just see, like all of you ordinary people out there, I observe. I take the visual stimuli and from that I deduce the cause of it." Lestrade was already confused. "Don't bother trying to understand it, no one ever does." A constable stopped in front of the cell.  
"Sir a man named Mycroft Holmes is here to see you." Lestrade looked up and replied.  
"Yes, please tell him I will be there in a minute."  
"Yes sir." The constable said, and then left to deliver the message.  
"Oh go see my annoying brother, the less time he's kept waiting the less unpleasant he will be." Sherlock said. Lestrade left, closing the cell door behind him. He went to the lobby and saw the intimidating figure of Mycroft Holmes. He wore a three piece suit that was tailored to his form and was leaning on an umbrella. He was tall, taller than Sherlock, and had a piercing gaze. He stood up straight, seeing him. Lestrade held out his hand for Mycroft,  
"Detective Sergeant Lestrade." He introduced himself. Mycroft grasped his hand. It was a firm and steady grip and his hands were soft, contrasting greatly to Lestrade's rough, calloused hands.  
"Mycroft Holmes-" he let go of Lestrade's hand. "I understand you have my brother." Mycroft's voice was soft and smooth and Lestrade lost his concentration for a moment.  
"Oh, yes --" he held up the release papers he had in his other hand. "I just need you to sign these and then you're both free to go." He put the papers on the counter, grabbed a pen and showed Mycroft where to sign. His regal signature graced the papers and he almost felt bad that his scrawl had to join it. Once they were finished he took Mycroft to see Sherlock.  
"Here so soon, Mycroft?" Sherlock commented as they entered the cell.  
"Really Sherlock, I thought you would be done with this childishness by now."  
"It is nothing but, childishness. It lets my mind work."  
"You are not invincible, Sherlock."  
"I never said I was." Sherlock retorted.  
"Deducing crime scenes to get yourself arrested? I'm not always going to be able to help you."  
"I highly doubt it."  
"Either way, that doesn't matter, let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy!

**Bound To You**

**Chapter Two**

**The Next Day**

 

Greg Lestrade was sitting at his desk bent over paperwork for his latest case. The case was horrible, every lead was hitting a dead end and he was no closer to finding out who murdered those three women. He was tempted even to investigate the lead Sherlock gave him but it made no sense. Then his phone buzzed: 

‘Incoming Call: Number Unknown.’ Lestrade picked it up. 

“Detective Sergeant Lestrade, who’s speaking?” 

“Good evening Detective Sergeant. I am Mycroft Holmes, we met yesterday.” 

“Oh yes, I remember.” He replied. ‘How could I forget?’ He shook his head forcefully to clear it. Mycroft Holmes was a high ranking government official and he; Detective Sergeant Gregory Lestrade was straight and married. 

“Well, I would like to propose a mutual partnership. I, as a concerned elder brother want Sherlock to get clean. You need a helping hand for your more difficult cases. Sherlock, I know will enjoy the challenge of the cases. If you help me with Sherlock I will make sure that he helps you.” Lestrade thought about it, it meant, spending more time with Mycroft, possibly a promotion. 

“What would this possibly entail?” Lestrade asked. 

“Helping Sherlock through his withdrawal, giving him access to cases, and putting up with him.” Mycroft replied matter-of-factly. 

“What do you mean; ‘putting up with him?’” 

“My brother is a very demanding person, especially when sober. His mind needs to be constantly stimulated. Right now the drugs do that, but once he’s sober he will be going, quite literally, mad with boredom.” Mycroft replied. “Do you think you can handle him?” 

“Well, I do have a toddler going through her terrible two’s and criminals to deal with everyday. I’m sure I can handle one strung out teenager.” Lestrade answered, self-assured. 

“He’s twenty and yes…I believe you can.” 

~*~ 

Mycroft knocked on the door of Sherlock’s dingy flat with his umbrella, Greg standing behind him. Greg asked, 

“Are you sure this is going to work?”  

“The odds are in our favor...yes.” Mycroft replied. 

 

“Somehow that isn’t very reassuring.” Greg mutter to himself, the Sherlock opened the door. 

“What do you want?” Sherlock spat. He was in pajamas and a dressing gown. 

“We are staging an intervention.” Mycroft replied. Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked away to collapse on the couch. 

“How many times is this now?” Sherlock asked as Mycroft and Greg entered the flat. 

“Seven, but this time it will be a success.” 

“And you really believe Lestrade will be able to handle me?” 

“You’d be surprised.” Replied Mycroft. He turned to Greg. “Search the flat.” Greg was hesitant. 

“Are you-“ He started to ask. 

“Oh for god’s sake, do as he asks!” exclaimed Sherlock. Greg scurried off to look for drugs. 

“Really brother? What are you trying to accomplish here? What did you bribe him with?” 

“Your help. I offered him your help if he helped you get clean.” 

“My help is not yours to give!” Sherlock exclaimed indignant. 

“This is something I know you would want.” Mycroft replied. “You enjoyed deducing that crime scene; imagine doing that all the time.” 

“Interesting murders do not occur everyday.” 

“But when they did…wouldn’t you want to see?” Mycroft asked. Sherlock pondered this and Mycroft went to go check on Greg. 

“Anything yet?” He asked entering the bedroom seeing Greg bent down looking underneath the bed. 

“Some in the bathroom.” 

“Too obvious, he planted that trying to throw you off, check under the floorboards.” 

“Where?” 

“Close to his bed.” Greg looked and after awhile found a loose one. 

“Jackpot.” He said prying the floorboard up and revealing Sherlock’s stash. 

“Good, but that’s not his only stash, keep looking.” Mycroft said. 

“Care to join me?” Greg asked. 

“Busy sorry.” Mycroft replied, pulling out his cellphone. 

“Busy arranging some days off of work for you.” 

“For what?!” Greg looked up startled. 

“For you to take care of Sherlock of course.” 

“And you can do that?” Mycroft pointedly didn’t answer him. 

~*~ 

**Three Days Later**  

Greg pulled out of his phone and called Mycroft. 

“Hello Gregory, how are thing going with Sherlock?” 

“Horrible.” Greg replied. “He’s driving me insane! And there’s barely anything edible here, there’s a head in the fridge!” 

“It’s an experiment!” Sherlock shouted. 

“I need some way to occupy my mind.” 

“He hasn’t relapsed I see.” 

“No not yet, he’s very irritable though, and he’s hungry. In fact so am I? Care to have some food delivered?” 

“I am not your personal courier.” Mycroft replied. 

“No you are not.” Greg said with a hint of a smirk. 

“Fine, I shall be visiting in three hours. I’ll bring food then.” 

“Great!” Greg exclaimed, smiling. “See you then.” He hung up. Sherlock reappeared in the living room and looked at him with disdain. 

“Why are you attracted to my brother of all people? He’s a fat, lazy sod.” 

“What – what are you talking about?” Greg stammered. 

“Don’t deny it. You can’t lie to me.” Sherlock spat. “You have a wife, and a child but yet…you want my brother, so why?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Greg exclaimed. “I love my wife and my daughter.” 

“I’m not doubting that, it’s just that; remember that you do…” He left the room to collapse into sleep, leaving Greg to ponder what he said. 

~*~ 

**Three Months Later**

It had taken much time and effort and assistance from Mycroft but Greg managed to get Sherlock clean. Now Sherlock had just helped him solve his latest big case. Serial killers were always difficult but it had taken Sherlock a matter of days, where as it would have taken him weeks. They were eating at a restaurant, Sherlock stuffing his face after three days without food. Greg was over the moon, one of the higher ups who oversaw the case, Detective Inspector Reynolds hinted at a possible promotion for him in the near future. He knew his wife would be overjoyed, he hadn’t seen her in days, but he knew the person he really had to thank. He excused himself form the table, Sherlock didn’t really notice anyway and went outside to place a call. 

“Hello, Gregory, I heard about the case, very good work you two did.” 

“Thank you Mycroft, I really appreciate you putting in a good word for me.” Greg replied. 

“Nonsense, you and Sherlock did just fine.” said Mycroft. 

“But I’m going to get a promotion because of you. I’m going to become a Detective Inspector. I can’t thank you enough.” Greg had always wanted to be a DI, ever since he was a kid. Catching the criminals, locking them up. Now as a DI he would get big cases and be able to keep the streets a little safer. Mycroft sat in his office listening to Greg stumble over his words of gratitude. He felt a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, the feeling he always had around Greg. He was happy for him. 

“While I appreciate the sentiment, Gregory your gratitude is better directed towards Sherlock, he did help you solve the case after all.” 

“Well but-“ Greg started to say, but was interrupted. 

“I must get back to my work Gregory. Enjoy your dinner.” Mycroft said hurriedly and hung up. Greg looked at his phone in confusion and shrugged. ‘Perhaps Mycroft really is busy?’ He wondered. 

~*~ 

**Later on that Night**  

Mycroft was sitting in his office filling out paperwork. It was late at night, but he needed to finish this, to take his mind off of what was happening. Then his phone rang. 

“Mycroft Holmes.” He said. 

“Hello brother.” He heard Sherlock greet him. 

“We need to talk Mycroft. I heard Lestrade on the phone with you…” Sherlock said. 

“I’ll send a car.” Mycroft replied and hung up. He was in deep, how could such a man like Gregory Lestrade do this to him? Maybe if he wasn’t so caring. The warm fuzzy feeling returned. He could feel an ache that was present in his heart. He knew what would happen. Over time as he saw Gregory more and more the ache would spread, and he would age, succumb, and wither. Maybe it was time. He was really getting tired of it all. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

**Bound To You**

**Chapter Three**  

Sherlock arrived at his office in fifteen minutes. He stormed in, coat flaring out. 

"Mycroft." He stated. 

"Sherlock." Mycroft replied. 

"Mycroft, I can see you are worn already." 

"Can nothing of that sort escape your eyes brother?" He asked. 

"Not when it comes to this." Sherlock sighed. "What are you doing Mycroft? Didn't we agree?" 

"Sherlock things change." Mycroft replied. 

"And you are going to leave me alone here?" Sherlock exclaimed. "In this world that will never understand me?" Mycroft looked away. He couldn't face Sherlock, face the fact that he would soon be leaving him. 

"You made me promise..." Sherlock said accusingly. 

"Perhaps there is away, perhaps Gregory can be reasoned with, if he understands what's at stake --"  

"How do you know you can trust him?" Sherlock asked, forcefully. 

"I don't, but I suppose that's what love is -- a leap of faith." 

"You-you can't be in love already?" Sherlock asked, eyes wide, horrified. 

"No, but soon." 

"You can't Mycroft! Back in 1972 you made me promise, to keep on living. You said that the world would be forever cold without me. Now you must do the same."  

"Well...we wouldn't want a repeat of 1972..." 

"Promise!" Sherlock demanded. Mycroft was taken aback by the amount of emotion Sherlock felt for him. 

"I-I promise Sherlock." Stuttering was the equivalent of crying for him and Sherlock knew that. He nodded. 

"Thank you." Sherlock said. 

"This means that I must stay away from him -" 

"I know that!" 

"Then don't get yourself into trouble." 

"I will see what I can do." Sherlock said, and left the office satisfied. Mycroft just felt an ache in his heart which he hoped would never grow. 

~*~ 

**The Next Day**  

His phone was ringing he had to ignore it. Gregory was calling, probably about his promotion, he knew exactly what would answer him. 'This is Mycroft Holmes, I am not available right now. If this is an emergency you know the number to call, if not leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." For a few days Gregory would think Mycroft was busy, then he would grow concerned. Then Anthea(the intern) would call apologizing for the lack of communication which would hopefully convince Gregory to stop trying. It hurt but he needed to stay alive for his brother. He would do anything for Sherlock. 

~*~ 

Greg Lestrade was growing frustrated. He could not contact Mycroft in anyway. That teenage intern had called him saying that Mycroft was out of the country and to halt any attempts of communication for the time being. He didn't understand what was happening, he talked to Sherlock and he just brushed him off, saying things like 'Mycroft could not deign to speak to us commoners.' He went from flirting to completely standoffish. It didn't make any sense. It didn't matter anyway, he knew Mycroft would contact him eventually, if only to inquire about Sherlock's well-being.

~*~ 

**One Year Later - 1994**  

Sherlock stormed out of the car into Mycroft's house. He could not believe that Mycroft had the nerve to 'kidnap' him in the middle of the case! Mycroft wasn't the Queen of England no matter how much power he wielded. He had no right to control his life. He entered Mycroft's study to see him staring into the full length mirror, without a word of acknowledgement for his arrival. 

"Well?" He asked, staring at Mycroft incredulously. "You didn't just call me here to preen, what is it?" 

"Look in the mirror Sherlock." Mycroft said somberly. Sherlock walked up to Mycroft and looked at his reflection. "What am I looking at?" He asked.  

"You have a near photographic memory Sherlock. Do I look the same?" Sherlock delved into his mind palace, he had a whole floor dedicated to Mycroft, though he would never tell him that, and looked for a memory, a recent memory. He looked at it in his mind and then opened his eyes, something was wrong. It was subtle, so subtle that even  _he_  didn't notice it right away. The slight hunch of Mycroft's frame, the slow thinning of his hair, but most obvious was the slight wrinkles forming on his forehead. 

"Mycroft!" Sherlock exclaimed. "How...? You promised..." 

"And I kept my promise to the best of my ability. However, I still miss Gregory. That, I believe, is taking its toll. I will not depart from this world anytime soon, fear not Sherlock." 

"How long?" Sherlock asked. 

"Based on my estimated rate of aging thus far, thirty years." Mycroft replied. 

"That's not long at all..." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient and reading this! :D Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated.


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